


Manifesto

by elektra121



Category: Heidi - Johanna Spyri
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character, Gen, Physical Disability, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektra121/pseuds/elektra121
Summary: Klara goes to college and gets to know new people and new ideas.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 24
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Manifesto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katekane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katekane/gifts).



_November, 1889, Zurich_

Probably no one but herself had ever seriously considered her desire to study to be anything but the quirk of a spoiled rich girl. As such, it was respected – most likely, everybody expected her to use the pretext of studying to spend a nice six months abroad and "see the world." That would mean, in case of maximum success, meeting a husband, moving in with him, and henceforth, leaving all childish pipe dreams behind. Klara was fully aware that everybody thought about it that way: her father, her teachers and classmates at boarding school, her tutors here in Zurich, her landlady, the maids, everyone. Her late grandmama would probably have been the only one with a different opinion... Anyway, Klara intended to prove everybody wrong – regardless of any offense they might take – and actually finish her studies. As a matter of principle. And, if she was completely honest to herself, she had no desire of getting a husband anytime soon.

  
God knows it hadn't been easy to overcome all the necessary hurdles. It had taken years, a huge measure of diligence, tenacity, persuasion, and a good deal of stubbornness, too, but finally she had arrived where she was now: in Zurich, with a matriculation certificate, three rooms with a bathroom, her own chambermaid, and a place at university to study philosophy. She had insisted on philosophy because to her it seemed the most academic subject of all.

  
In addition to the strictly curricular part of her studies, however, she certainly wanted to explore her "extra-curricular" options as well. Her father, her former governess, and also her teachers at boarding school had always found ways to prevent this in the past, either on purpose or not. Klara had fought hard for every bit of her independence and in the process gotten used to the strenuousness of the fight. What she had not gotten used to, though, was the possibility of small things turning into big problems. Until now, it had been a matter of course that people would go out of their way to remove all physical barriers from her path. But here in Zurich, no one showed any special consideration for her disability at all – aside from glances of pity, of course. Curbs and narrow doors became serious obstacles. The streetcar was unusable to her. And the stairs! Goodness! Never had she had so much trouble with stairs before. Her boarding school and hotel rooms had always been at ground level, as had the school rooms. And at home or at the hotels or in the mountains, with Heidi, there had always been someone to carry her if needed. But here? Half the lectures were held in halls that could only be reached via stairs, so all she could do was borrow the transcripts from other students afterwards. It was so frustrating! But there was no alternative – and hence no point in making a fuss about it. Klara had to bite on the bit.

  
As for her plans to live life to the fullest, she tried to socialize as much as possible, starving for human interaction. For the last six months, she had done little more than preparing for the school exams, rarely leaving the house except for a trip to the Alps, after her exams. She had visited Heidi, and as lovely and relaxing as that had been, the few people keeping them company there had been folks she already knew very well.

  
Zurich posed a striking contrast to the alp – a whole exciting city full of people to get to know! At first, she had tried to make new friends in seminars and lectures – sparing no seat neighbor from receiving an invitation for a chat – even if it wasn’t accepted as often as Klara would have liked. Shortly thereafter, she was approached by the German Female Students' Association and immediately became a member. She had to admit, though, that their meetings were... well... not quite like she had imagined them to be. Their main topic seemed to be how to distinguish oneself as a German female student in appearance, dress, and behavior from the Russian female students, who apparently were the epitome of all evil, morally depraved and _subversive_. Klara had never heard the term _subversive_ before and had to look it up in the dictionary – but instead of keeping her away from those Russian women, the deterrent language achieved the opposite: It made them sound terribly interesting. And what did "morally depraved" mean, anyway? That they liked to smoke? Or other things as well?

  
From then on, she kept an eye out for them everywhere in the city. And once she started spotting them, she wondered how she could have missed them before: dark and extravagantly dressed, standing together in groups, and talking rapidly in a foreign language. Tall, beautiful, exotic women who smoked, who laughed too loudly, who leaned provocatively against walls or lampposts, who gave everyone daring to come too close a mockingly brash glance. They were impressive and frightening at the same time. Klara didn't quite know how to best approach them.

  
Finally, one of them caught her eye during a philosophy seminar. A very short woman of otherwise rather unimpressive appearance, who – to Klara's great delight – apparently also had impaired mobility, given the slow and clumsy limp in her step. The following week, Klara arranged to sit very close to the door so that the limping Russian would have to pass her when the seminar ended. And indeed, as expected, the other woman waited and arranged her notes until the bulk of students were out the door, chattering and jostling one another, and only then did she rise to make her arduous way out. Klara waited until she was close to her seat next to the door.

"I guess we have some things in common.," she remarked, releasing the parking brake on the wheels of her wheelchair and turning to face her with abig cheery smile. "You do not swim with the masses, too."

  
Even standing, the Russian was barely taller than Klara sitting, and they were almost at eye level. With her black hair and very dark eyes, she reminded Klara a little of Heidi. Except that Heidi’s brows had never been as sternly furrowed as those of the Russian who seemed very interested in her counterpart now.

  
"Yes. But actually I don't mind mingling masses. As long as they mingle for good reasons." Her German was perfect, without any accent. Even Klara's former governess, who definitely would have fainted if faced with a Russian female student, could not have found anything wrong with it. But instead of further elaborating on her enigmatic words, the Russian gave Klara an inquisitive look, as if she expected a certain answer. Klara, however, could think of nothing witty to say.

"Um, yeah... I don't know many other female students here yet. If you don't mind me asking... what's your name?"

"Rosalia. And yours?"

"Klara."

The Russian's face lit up as if the name meant something special. "Klara! What a coincidence."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was hoping to meet a Clara in Zurich. Another one. Clara Zetkin." Rosalia paused, eyeing her again with that strange expectant look, which Klara didn't quite understand. Regardless, she really liked this Russian woman, even with her strange behavior. And she definitely wanted to get to know her better.

"If you feel like it, we could go to a café – and you could tell me about this other Clara." Strangely enough, Rosalia agreed.

  
At the café, Klara ordered two Kapuziners and seized the occasion to finally get an answer to a question that had been burning on her mind for quite some time now.

"Why are you studying here and not in Russia? I heard women are allowed to study over there. If we could attend university in the German Reich, I would certainly do so at home."

Rosalia smiled melancholically. "For some years now, we have been allowed to study again, that's true. But first of all, I’m not Russian. I’m Polish. There are no universities in my home that admit women. And even if there were, I would have stood little chance. I'm Jewish. No, not really. Actually, I'm an atheist."

Klara was astonished. As far as she knew, she had never talked to a Polish woman before. And certainly not to an openly atheist one. How exciting! "But, well, on the records, I'm Jewish," Rosalia continued. "And there's a Jewish quota. Only three percent of students are allowed to be Jewish. So, even fewer chances for Jewish women."

"How unfair!" Klara couldn’t hide her surprise. She had never had to worry about quotas. In fact, she hadn’t even been aware of their existence.

"Yes. There's still a lot of injustice in this world. I'm sure you're aware." She nodded at Klara's wheelchair. "Besides, like I said, there are some people here I wanted to meet." Given Rosalia’s inscrutable face, Klara had a hard time holding back her curiosity.

"This Clara Tsit... why haven't you met?"

Rosalia smirked. "Well, first, she doesn't know me. Yet. I would love to meet her anyway, though. She's a great feminist. The greatest right now, probably. But she moved to Paris this summer. Gave a well-received speech there on the question of women's rights at the International Workers Congress. Haven't you heard of her?"

Klara shook her head but was pretty sure she wanted to learn more about the other Clara. _International Workers Congress_ on _the question of women's rights_! That such things even existed! How meaningful, how progressive. Klara was intrigued.

  
"What exactly is a workers congress?" Rosalia seemed puzzled about Klara’s innocent ignorance. "Well, a workers congress is where socialists meet... so..." She waited as if hoping for a sign of understanding from Klara but then continued. "Basically, people who wish for more social justice. Less injustice, inequality – whatever you want to call it. Socialists want to change things in society, improve them. For example, women should be allowed to study in the German Reich, too, or in Congress Poland. And in Austria. Everywhere. Also, people shouldn’t have to ruin their health with 10-hour workdays for starvation wages, while the people who don't do any of the work keep all the profits. Stuff like that."

"That is a thing?"

"Yes," Rosalia confirmed, apparently surprised by the fact that someone didn’t know this. "I can lend you some books on it, if you want. But I have to warn you: Talking about these things too loudly is strictly forbidden in the German Reich. So maybe it's a good thing you have to study here after all." She winked at Klara.

  
"So, socialists are people who want to make society better? For women?"

"Not just for women. For everyone, actually. Well, maybe not for the people who enjoy unfair privileges now. But at the end of the day, it’s about enabling everyone to develop as freely as possible, as long as they don't hinder anyone else."

  
The server arrived with the Kapuziners and put them on the table, but Klara didn't pay him any attention anymore. It was Rosalia who thanked him.

"Hmm. Well, to be honest, currently I'm less hindered by people than I am by things. Really, to me, stairs are the greatest hindrances. I hate them! Why does everything have to be accessible only via stairs? I guess, not even those socialists can change that."

Rosalia gave her a stern look. "Who says that cannot be changed? Of course, that can be changed. One could build elevators, create ground-level entrances, move seminars to other rooms – I'm sure there are many possibilities. All it takes is the will to bring about change."

"But it doesn't seem like anybody is interested in change," Klara said gloomily. When it came to this subject, she usually tried to give herself a veneer of I-don't-care and pretend it meant nothing at all. But of course, the opposite was true. And it must have been apparent to Rosalia as well because her face changed to a more empathetic expression.

"Well, _you_ obviously are interested in change. And now that _I_ think about it, I actually want this to change, too. I’ve never thought about it that way before, but if stairs are preventing people from accessing schools, then why shouldn't we change it? Knowledge and education must be accessible to all of us. Literally." Rosalia smiled.

"You're right about that. But what good will it do if only you and me want this? That's not going to help anything. Did they talk about something like this at the congress, too?"

Rosalia pondered the question. "As far as I know, no."

Klara felt rather disappointed with these _socialists_ – which was odd, because barely fifteen minutes ago, she hadn't even known they existed.

  
"But, you know, that's a really good point, and it should be addressed. Because why not?" Rosalia bent down to her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. "And we don't even have to wait for any congress. Let's do something about it ourselves!" "Like what?" "Well, in order to fix a problem, you first need to spell out what it is and make suggestions for improvements. Why don't you write a petition?" Rosalia slid the sheet of writing paper to Klara and handed her the pencil. But Klara hesitated.

"You want me to do what?" She thought she had misheard. Petitions – that was something for lawyers, politicians, professionals. She was a fledgling philosophy student, for God's sake!

"Write a petition." Rosalia's voice was unperturbed. "I think we should first present the issue itself, then argue why it's a problem that needs to be fixed. And finally, we’ll make some specific demands. Of course, that's no guarantee that they'll actually be implemented, but at least it’s a foundation to build on. Then no one can claim the problem was not known." Klara blinked, intimidated by Rosalia’s determination. "But–"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rosalia cut her off and checked her pocket watch. "I really have to go now, I'm afraid! But let's meet again next week. What do you think, will you have a draft ready by then? And thanks so much for the Kapuziner." Rosalia hastily re-pocketed her watch and downed her coffee. And then she rushed out of the café before Klara could even get her thoughts in order. By the time she had finally sorted them out, her own coffee had gone cold.

  
For the next full week, Klara worked on her petition during every free minute she could get. At first, she had little faith in the endeavor and only composed it in her head. But gradually, she gained more confidence, and piece by piece, a real, genuine text emerged on paper. And with every little edit, Klara’s confidence grew. It felt unexpectedly good to finally be able to say all the things that had been annoying her for so long, to truly admit to herself how much it had all been bothering her – and to have the possibility to get these thoughts out into the world! She could hardly wait for her next meeting with Rosalia.

  
Filled with pride, she handed her the latest draft after the seminar in the following week. Rosalia read it slowly and intently, but then gently shook her head. Klara was devastated.

"You don't like it?"

"No." Rosalia declared. "It sounds angry. Reproachful. It shouldn't sound reproachful."

"Why not?!" Klara objected. "I _am_ angry. I _am_ reproachful!"

Rosalia was unmoved. "Yes, but then you give them good reason to reject it because of what they call 'female eccentricity.' You have to remain cool and choose your words in a matter-of-fact way. Do not give any offense."

"But I want them to realize that I'm serious. It's not going to be a polite request. The changes we demand should be implemented as a matter of principle."

Klara was surprised by the conviction in her own words. If someone had told her just a week ago that she would one day talk like this, she wouldn’t have believed it. And yet, here she was.

"I didn't deny any of that. But, look, what do you think about the following edits...?" Rosalia began to cross out words here and there, rephrase them, then crossing some out again. Klara soon joined her, made some edits of her own. And finally, after more than half an hour, they were both satisfied.

  
"I think you can leave it like that," Rosalia nodded. "But write it in Latin script instead. Looks more official."

"Oh, I can't write Latin very well; I usually write German script."

"Then give it to me – I'll do the fair copy." Rosalia began to write, and Klara watched enthusiastically as her own words – now in a proper, professional-sounding form – appeared in very neat Latin handwriting on an official piece of paper. At last, Rosalia put down the pen, stretched her tired fingers, and slid the sheet over to Klara.

"There, now all you have to do is sign it."

  
And so Klara did. Perhaps with a bit too much gusto due to her excitement, she put her name under the petition – the _socialist_ petition! – that had the potential to bring about some much needed change in society. Then she handed the pen back to Rosalia.

"You worked on it, too. And you came up with the idea! So you, too, have to sign it."

With a little less exuberance than Klara, Rosalia agreed and carefully signed her name as well. So the final line below their petition read:

  
_(Sgd.) Klara Sesemann & _ _Rosa. Luxemburg_

  
And this was how they would submit it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. Did you guess her? ;) Rosa Luxemburg actually *did* start her studies and took philosophy courses at Zurich in 1889.  
> Considering Klara is twelve in the book and it came out in 1880 - if she went to college, there is a good chance they both met. And yes, Rosa Luxemburg had a permanent limp from a hip ailment. Yet, as far as I know, she never was a disability rights activist. I made that one up. ;)
> 
> Many thanks go out to Fenway03 who helped a great deal with the translation.


End file.
